


Head

by chronicAngel



Series: Leaves in the Summer [60]
Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: F/M, Fluff, POV Third Person, Talking, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 23:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13580850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicAngel/pseuds/chronicAngel
Summary: His breathing is stilted as he watches her with furrowed brows like a puzzle he can’t quite figure out. She smiles because she can recall being looked at like that many times by many different people, not the least of which being his parent.The other one, that is.





	Head

Tsunade can admit that her reaction to the news that the members of Team 7's respective children would be having their own offspring relatively soon was different from everyone else's (which likely has to do with the fact that she already wasted all of the shock and exhaustion she could on Naruto's announcement that he had reproduced twenty years ago). Obviously Naruto was overjoyed, as he and Sakura have been vying for Boruto and Sarada since the two were practically infants, and Sakura was similarly pleased. Sasuke was just as hard to read as always, but she supposes he was happy with the news. Kakashi was as exhausted as she imagines she was supposed to feel.

She's... thoughtful.

She currently sits at a table with her own child, though it's not always easy to think of him as such, watching him with raised eyebrows as he carefully pours the both of them cups of tea. She wants to be the one to break the silence and always expects to be so, remembering how Orochimaru was when they were his age and wrongfully assuming he will be exactly the same, but as is often the case, he catches her off-guard. “I suppose this is about my teammates' recent revelation?” His eyebrows, a shade of blue that resembles the sky on lighter winter mornings, are hardly centimeters higher than they usually are, but there is a clear question illustrated on his face and in his tone. He doesn't wait for her answer, confident in his assumptions anyway. “We've already discussed the matter of children--”

“I don't care about that,” she snaps, rolling her eyes, and he seems taken aback for a second. _He really does resemble Orochimaru sometimes..._ “What your teammates do doesn't have to determine if or when you choose to do something.”

He absorbs this for a moment, and then nods in what she decides is likely satisfaction. He's always so fascinating to her. In twenty years, despite her assistance, she still isn't used to the idea of Orochimaru with a child. What makes even less sense to her is the fact that he seems to have turned out completely alright, which she's sure is her own genes shining through (she's always been putting up with Orochimaru's subpar guesses at proper social conduct).

She takes a sip of her tea to hide her grin when he gives her a suspicious look.

“This is about us,” she finally continues, setting her now-empty glass on the table and gazing meaningfully at him. “About our clan.”

Mitsuki's eyes widen. She hasn’t verbally acknowledged their relationship, an excellent imitation of his other parent during their younger years, and she supposes he’s thought she considered him more of an outsider than a member of her clan. After all, she may have contributed half of his DNA, but that doesn’t mean she considers him a relative. She’s wondered since Rogu was first created if this was something they would be anxious about.

She stares him pointedly in the eyes, a slightly paler gold than those which she’s grown so familiar with over the years. “Alongside Uchiha Madara, my grandfather Senju Hashirama founded the village and put an end to centuries of bloodshed between our clans. My grandmother, his wife, Uzumaki Mito was the creator of the Strength of Ten technique that inspired my Strength of a Hundred seal. Like any of the old clans, we’ve done things that no one should be proud of. Perpetuating a war that lasted hundreds of years is probably at the top of that list,” she laughs though she knows it isn’t something to laugh about. “The point is, our clan has a lot of history.” He freezes up again at her repeated usage of the term _our clan_ , blinking at her as though she’s something he can’t quite understand.

He watches her closely as though he expects her to reveal herself as an imposter any minute now. She almost thinks it’s cute, chuckling low in her throat when he seems to conclude that she’s her and she’s just lost it. “There is a point to this,” he says, not quite questioning, standing and collecting their cups presumably to pour more tea. She hums in acknowledgement but watches him without elaborating while he serves. The sleeves of his kimono still hang over his hands like when he was a child and her lips quirk at the corners when he struggles to get a proper grip on the handles of the teacups, though she’s not certain that it’s because of the blue fabric. He wears the same expression his parent used to when he would spend hours bent over scrolls studying techniques she chose not to look into.

“There is.” She watches him over the rim of her teacup again, taking a long sip. “Sarada has been head of the Uchiha clan since she turned eighteen. Boruto has been heading the Uzumaki clan since the two got married almost eight months ago. Even Konohamaru has been heading the Sarutobi clan since before the three of you were born, as hard as that is for me to believe.” With a twitch of her lips, she thinks of the bratty kid who holed himself up in her office because he wasn’t over the passing of his grandfather and was tripping over his scarf at every corner. It says a lot that he’s slated to become the next Hokage.

“Please get to the point,” he says, voice soft but impatient.

“You are notoriously the son of Orochimaru. Some people in this village will only ever see you as that, even those who don’t understand what he did-- not that it’s something anyone will ever be able to fully understand. What the people of this village don’t know is that you are also _my_ son, and I will not allow you to be remembered as only the son of a criminal-- a recovering criminal,” she adds hastily. “No one deserves to be judged for their connections, especially the ones that they can’t help.” She takes a deep breath, allowing a moment for this to sink in. “I want you to take the title of the Senju clan head.”

His breath hitches. She watches him with careful eyes for a negative reaction, pressing her lips in a firm line of neutrality. He is completely rigid underneath his loose kimono, which does a fine enough job of hiding his posture that she might not be able to see if her eyes were only slightly less sharp than they are now. She knows that if her healing factor were anything less than what it was, they would be. With how wide his eyes are blown, she can see the traces of her fiery amber in Orochimaru’s predominant gold, mixing into a light copper that’s normally made lighter by a seemingly never-ending curiosity.

She knows how relaxed she must look in contrast. This is a decision she has already struggled with and already decided she was sure about. Watching her own anxieties about the choice flicker across his own face only serves to make her feel more relaxed in a strange way.

“I do not intend to marry.”

“I know.”

“If I were to become clan head, there would be no heirs.”

“I know.”

His breathing is stilted as he watches her with furrowed brows like a puzzle he can’t quite figure out. She smiles because she can recall being looked at like that many times by many different people, not the least of which being his parent. _The other one, that is_. She thinks it’s funny how much he can resemble Orochimaru and yet be so different from him, and she wonders if he has influenced his parent as much as his parent has influenced him. She hopes so. In all her memory, Orochimaru has never been a necessarily good person and if Mitsuki can change that, she almost finds it fitting. “Three Hokages is a lot to live up to,” he says after a minute, pulling her out of her thoughts. She smirks at his teasing expression.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

**Author's Note:**

> This one goes to my cousin, whose first birthday was today.


End file.
